The Usual Suspects
by mascaret
Summary: Dembe takes the evening off leaving Elizabeth in charge of keeping Reddington in line. Spoiler Alert - Liz fails. Heavy on the usual suspects.
1. Chapter 1

_The Usual Suspects_

"Don't let him drive. He won't admit to it, but his night vision is getting terrible. It's your call, but I don't let him ride in the front with me. He's a bad enough backseat driver when he's in the backseat."

Dembe handed her the keys to the Mercedes and continued with his instructions. "He hasn't eaten yet. You'll need to feed him before you bring him to the safe house. If he tries to order an espresso after dinner, don't let him. He'll never go to sleep. If he insists, get them to change it out for decaf without telling him."

Dembe hesitated. "Are you sure you don't mind?"

Liz laughed and put her hand on the swell of her abdomen. "From the sounds of it, this will be good practice."

Dembe handed her a burner phone. "I will have his phone. You hold this one. If someone calls and I feel they really need to reach him, I will give them this number. Don't let him hold it between calls."

Liz raised an eyebrow, but she didn't ask.

"The speed dial has been pre-programmed. Don't hesitate to call me. I'm #2 on the speed dial."

"Only #2?" Liz teased. "Who is #1?"

"Mr. Kaplan."

"Of course. How silly of me."

"Dial #1 if it is a regular emergency, but if it's a medical emergency -"

"- *77." Liz supplied. "You do realize that Reddington and I were alone together on the run for months. I think I can handle babysitting him for one night."

"That was different. He was on a mission. He had a purpose. A focus. He can get into a bit of trouble left to his own devices."

"I've got this." Liz assured Dembe.

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

Liz couldn't resist. "What's her name?"

Dembe played dumb. "Who's name?"

"Your hot Tuesday night date?"

"It's not a date." Dembe corrected her.

"I see … Is your not-a-date with a woman?" Liz teased.

Joining them, Reddington answered for him. "Of course it's a woman. Why else would Dembe be abandoning me? What ever happened to bros before -"

His face quite stern, Dembe didn't let Reddington finish his not very nice limerick. "She's not a -"

Reddington interrupted him so that Dembe didn't have to say the word either.

"- Ah ha! But you do admit that it is a she! What's her name and does she have a friend for me?"

"I'm not telling you and weren't you the one that said I needed to find a better work/life balance?"

"That I did." Reddington admitted. "Go and have your fun."

Dembe put his arms on Reddington's shoulders. "Be safe, my brother."

Turning to Elizabeth, he added. "Both of you, be safe and Elizabeth … don't let him talk you into anything."

"I won't." Liz assured him.

"Feed him and then straight to the safe house."

Liz mock saluted. "Aye aye, Captain."

Dembe hesitated at her lack of seriousness.

Liz scolded him. "Would you just go?! What's the worst that can happen? I can handle Raymond Reddington for one evening!"

Liz and Reddington both watched Dembe until the doors of the Post Office elevator closed.

"Well Lizzie, I don't know about you, but I am famished! What do you say we hit up the diner on the way to the safe house?"

 _tbc_


	2. Chapter 2

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter Two_

Entering the diner, Reddington nodded his head in greeting to the establishment's sometimes waitress, all the time owner and most importantly pie maker. By Liz's estimate, Shelby was Reddington's age – maybe a little older. She had a pretty face and a slight Southern drawl.

As Elizabeth followed Reddington to a booth to wait - not for menus, but for their usual order to just be brought over - considering her current condition, Liz wondered aloud. "Do you think we should get something more substantial than just pie?"

"You get the blueberry pie. Blueberries are incredibly healthy. They are full of antioxidants."

"True, but blueberry pie is also full of sugar."

Reddington glanced at her conflicted expression before letting his gaze wander down to her abdomen. As something of a compromise, he offered. "If you're really concerned, we can order something more substantial _after_ we have pie … instead of the usual more pie."

Liz wasn't a hard sell. The pie here was truly amazing. It was even better than Aunt June's back in Nebraska. "That works."

They had been in their seats for less than a minute, but Liz found herself craning her neck to see where Shelby was with their order. One of the perks of going places with Reddington was that you never did seem to have to wait long for _anything._ Indeed, Shelby was already headed their way.

It was odd. Usually Shelby would stay to chat after bringing them their order, but tonight there was a bit of small talk in greeting but just as soon as she put down their order, she walked away. The diner didn't look _that_ busy …

Digging into her slice of blueberry pie, Liz didn't really think much of it … until Reddington went to take a bit of his.

Looking truly horrified, as if Shelby had served him a pie made of insects and rodents - not apples, Reddington called her back. _"Shelby … this isn't my order."_

Reluctantly, Shelby turned back. "Sorry darlin'. New girl. She didn't know any better. She let somebody else have your slice of pecan pie."

Liz looked over at the display case. There was still one slice left. She said as much.

Reddington corrected her. "Shelby is saving that slice for someone _very_ special. Isn't that right, Shelby?"

"That's right, darlin'." Shelby agreed.

Liz was amazed to finally find someone who wouldn't give Raymond Reddington what he wanted. "And you don't consider Reddington to be special?"

Shelby put her arm around Reddington's shoulder in a friendly, familiar gesture. "Oh he's special all right."

Reddington slipped his arm around Shelby's waist as he chastised Liz. "Shelby thinks I'm special. Just not the _last_ slice of pecan pie special. I'm a _second_ to the last slice of pecan pie special."

Naturally, Liz had to ask. "So who is save the last slice of pecan pie special?"

"One time, many, many years ago - before you were even born - Mr. Kaplan came in here and Shelby was all out of her marvelous pecan pie. Mr. Kaplan didn't want anything else so she just had coffee. Ever since then, Shelby has made sure to always save a slice of the pecan pie for Mr. Kaplan."

It was probably the hormones, but Liz found that to be the sweetest thing. "That's adorable."

The warm fuzzy feeling was allowed to hang over them for a moment before Reddington got down to business or at least tried to.

"Shelby, what if I assured you that Mr. Kaplan is out of town at the moment and there is absolutely no chance of her coming in to claim her slice of pecan pie? Then would you let me have it?"

Shelby flat out refused. "No."

Reddington frowned and turned to stare at the lone remaining slice of pie.

"What if we cut the piece in half? Give half to me. Save half for Mr. Kaplan."

"Honey, some people when they get to a certain age, their metabolism starts to change. They don't need that extra piece of dessert every day. Now Mr. Kaplan on the other hand, she looks like she could do with a few home cooked meals."

Though he looked slightly affronted, Red refused to surrender. "What if I called Mr. Kaplan _right now_ and asked her if it would be okay for you to give me her slice of pecan pie? Then could I have it?"

"No."

"I could put her on speaker phone so you could hear her yourself."

Shelby had a little flirt to her smile as she answered and it wasn't for Reddington. "I would have to hear it from her in person."

Reddington tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "You just want to see Mr. Kaplan. Is there _even_ a new girl? Or did you give away my slice of pie to try to get me to get Mr. Kaplan in here?"

Shelby neither confirmed nor denied his suspicions. "I made another pecan pie. It's in the oven right now. It's going to be another ten to fifteen minutes."

"That's good, but you do realize that in exchange for getting Mr. Kaplan in here I'm going to be expecting more than just _a_ slice. I'm going to need that _whole_ pie."

Shelby didn't say anything, but she had a big smile as she walked away taking the uneated slice of apple pie with her.

"Lizzie, I'm going to need the phone I know Dembe gave you."

Liz hesitated. "I'm not sure you wanting pie qualifies as an actual emergency."

Reddington scoffed. "Where is your sense of romance?"

"Isn't Mr. Kaplan already seeing someone?"

"Maybe so, but which do you think would be the better match? Shelby, who is kind and sweet and caring and bakes us all the most wonderful pies? Or the homicidal maniac that stages elaborate crime scenes to frame people for crimes they didn't commit?"

"The better match or the better life choice?"

"Touche." Reddington acknowledged.

Still, Liz found herself fishing the phone out of her pocket and handing it over.

"Mr. Kaplan! I need to see you. No, it can't wait until tomorrow. It has to be now. No, it's not something I can talk about over the phone. I need to see you in person. Right away. I'm at the diner."

Before closing the flip phone, Reddington added. "Kate, you're my only hope. _Please!_ Hurry!"

 _tbc_


	3. Chapter 3

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter Three_

"Ah Mr. Kaplan!" Reddington rose to kiss her on the cheek in greeting. "Thank you for coming!"

"What's the situation?" Mr. Kaplan asked without preamble.

"Before we get to that … would you please tell Shelby that you don't want the last slice of pecan pie? That it would be okay for her to give it to me?"

"Raymond, you did not seriously just call me down here over a slice of pecan pie?"

"No. Of course not." Reddington lied.

Mr. Kaplan looked at him expectantly, but Reddington had nothing to offer.

Mr. Kaplan sighed. "You called me out here over a slice of pecan pie."

Reddington bit his lip, confirming his guilt.

Mr. Kaplan took out her cell phone.

"Who are you calling?"

"Dembe. So he doesn't come in here guns blazing like he did in the hangar bay."

"You called Dembe to tell him I called you? You tattled on me? What are we, in the fourth grade?"

Mr. Kaplan didn't answer. She was too busy talking into the phone. "I told you it was nothing to worry about. The diner ran out of the kind of pie he likes."

There was a brief pause before she added. "Yes, I am serious and no, I am not making it up."

Elizabeth squirmed in her seat as a still on the phone Mr. Kaplan glanced her way. "Well then she must have given it to him because he called me."

As Mr. Kaplan hung up, Shelby came over with the prized piece of pie on her tray.

"Thank you, Shelby." Liz found it absolutely adorable the shy way Mr. Kaplan kept her head down and didn't look at Shelby as she said it.

When she added not just a coffee, but a small dish of ice cream, Reddington scowled and Liz called foul. "Wait a minute! Mr. Kaplan gets ice cream with hers? I want ice cream!"

"Listeria." Mr. Kaplan reminded her.

Liz sulked at the reminder that she couldn't have ice cream.

Reddington shook his head. "How can you ruin that perfectly good piece of pie by putting _chocolate_ ice cream on it?!"

"I don't put the ice cream on it. I alternate bites."

Shelby chimed in. "I saved you the crossword puzzle. Let me just go and get it."

"Thank you, Shelby." The way Mr. Kaplan said it – _'ThankyouShelby'_ – it was like it was all one word.

As soon as Shelby stepped away, Reddington started to plead Shelby's case. "Shelby likes you. I think you should ask her out."

"I have enough crazy in my life, Raymond. I don't need more."

Reddington feigned surprise. "Oh! Are you still seeing Vanessa?"

"I was referring to you, Raymond."

"I'm not crazy."

Mr. Kaplan stared at him with a mix of pity and disbelief. "Raymond, you called me out here at nine o'clock at night over a slice of pie."

"Yes, but it's not just _any_ pie. It's Shelby's _pecan_ pie."

"As for Shelby, don't you find it the slightest bit odd that she saves a piece of pie for me everyday with no idea whether or not I will come in? Doesn't that seem like a waste of a lot of perfectly good food?"

Liz gave her opinion. "I think it's sweet."

"It's wishful thinking." Reddington argued. "She's being hopeful."

They stopped talking as Shelby returned with the crossword puzzle – or more accurately puzzles. She put down a stack of them neatly clipped out from the newspaper. Taking the pencil out of her updo, she set that too down next to Mr. Kaplan.

Mr. Kaplan gave another "ThankyouShelby" as she quirked an eyebrow at Reddington.

Once Shelby left, Reddington tried to argue. "It's just the crossword puzzle. It would weird if she saved the whole paper for you _or_ if she kept the ones you've completed."

Hesitantly, Reddington asked. "She doesn't keep the ones you've completed – does she?"

Liz looked at the pile. "That looks like a two week stack. I can see why Shelby felt the need to resort to desperate measures to get you in here."

"She's always talking about trying to fatten me up. Why does she need more meat on my bones? It's very Hansel and Gretel."

Reddington looked horrified. "What is wrong with you? Where do you come up with these things? She's not going to bake you in her oven. She just wants you to eat a sandwich."

They all went quiet as Shelby returned to the table with her part of the bargain – an entire pecan pie just for Reddington.

Mr. Kaplan raised an eyebrow at the sight of it.

"I put it in a takeaway box for you because I know how you folks are always getting suddenly called away and while I know how much you _should_ eat right now, I wasn't sure how much you would try to eat.

Reddington lifted the lid and made a great show of wafting the scent of the pie towards himself. "Heavenly Shelby. Just heavenly. The take out box is entirely unnecessary but I appreciate your thoughtfulness."

Shelby shook her head as she again stepped away.

"You're not seriously going to try to eat that entire pie in one sitting?" Liz asked as Reddington scrounged around for a fork. Shelby had taken his away along with the offending slice of apple pie.

"There is no try, young padawan. There is only do or do not. The summer I was twelve there was a pie eating contest on Nantucket -"

Mr. Kaplan wasn't interested in hearing his story. "- Raymond, I've know you for more than thirty years ..."

"Closer to thirty-five." Reddington corrected her as he reached for Mr. Kaplan's untouched fork.

She moved it out of his reach. "You sold me out for a pie, Raymond."

Reddington had no shame as he tried to flag down Shelby to get a new fork. "I didn't sell you. I traded you. And it's not _any_ pie, Kate. It's Shelby's pecan pie."

"I'm leaving now, Raymond. Don't do this again."

"Come on, Kate. Don't be like that. You're already here. Stay."

"Raymond, as hard as this may be for you to believe I don't actually sit around the phone waiting for you to call. I have a life. I had other plans for tonight."

"We don't." Raymond admitted. "What are you doing? Maybe we'll tag along."

Mr. Kaplan didn't look too keen on that idea. " _No."_

Liz took another bite of her pie as Mr. Kaplan started lecturing him.

"Raymond, you're so fond of telling stories. Surely, you are familiar with the one about the boy who cried wolf?"

Momentarily pulling his attention away from his pie, Reddington looked at her. "Mr. Kaplan, we both know that it doesn't matter how many times I cry wolf. You will always, _always_ come running if you even _suspect_ that I might need you."

He said it not exactly smugly, but with full confidence. Mr. Kaplan looked irked, but she didn't dispute his assessment.

When Reddington returned his attention to his ill gotten gains and began trying to pick up one of the slices with his fingers, Mr. Kaplan snapped the box shut and pulled it across the table away from him.

"What are you doing?" Reddington asked in alarm.

"Goodnight Raymond. Elizabeth."

Reddington gasped in horror like a vampire being splashed with holy water as Mr. Kaplan dumped her dish of half melted ice cream over her untouched slice of pecan pie before standing and walking away – taking Reddington's pie and the stack of crossword puzzles with her.

Mr. Kaplan offered up one last, loud, "ThankYouShelby" on her way to the door.

"That was _my_ pie!" Reddington protested. "She took _my_ pie!"

Thinking that was the end of it, Liz shrugged, amused. "Serves you right."

As the bell on the door jingled, Reddington came up with an idea of something for them to do for the rest of their evening. "Let's follow her."

 _tbc_


	4. Chapter 4

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 4_

As the bell on the door jingled, Reddington came up with an idea of something for them to do for the rest of their evening. "Let's follow her."

"What? No!" Liz protested.

"Why not? She follows you all the time."

"She does not!"

"She really does. You and your whole team. She calls them _spot checks_. Harold has really got to get you people some better counter surveillance training."

Not entirely sure if she should believe him, Liz refrained from taking the bait. "She's probably just going to see Vanessa."

Standing, Reddington disagreed. "I know she isn't going to see Vanessa because Vanessa is out of town."

Despite her reservations, Liz found herself being dragged in. "On an assignment for you?"

Leaving money on the table to cover their check, Reddington tried to rush her. "Yes, now hurry before she gets away!"

Liz wasn't so sure. "I don't know ..."

"Come on. It will be fun. Trust me. I used to do it all the time when Mr. Kaplan and I were on opposite sides."

Hefting herself out of her seat, Liz questioned him. "Opposite sides of what?"

" _The law,_ Lizzie. When I was a white hat and she was a black hat."

It made sense, but it startled Liz - the idea that Mr. Kaplan and Reddington had once played on opposing sides. "How often did you catch her?"

Reddington's lips turned down before he admitted. "Only when she wanted me to or someone else screwed up.

 _OOO_

"Huh ..." Liz had a thought as she drove.

"Huh what?" Reddington asked.

"Oh, it's nothing. It was just an absolutely ridiculous thought."

"Do share."

"No, really it was stupid and it doesn't fit. It's way, _way_ off base. I'm just workplace romance paranoid after the whole Ressler-Samar-Aram thing."

"Well now you have piqued my interest and _have_ to tell."

"Dembe took the night off because he had plans with some mysterious woman ... Mr. Kaplan couldn't be bothered to stay to chat because she has plans ... You don't get more mysterious than Mr. Kaplan – even her name is a misdirect - but like I said it doesn't fit."

Liz was a little surprised when Reddington offered no comment.

Eventually, she made a suggestion. "Maybe she isn't going anywhere. Maybe she is just going home. Are we headed in that direction?"

Suddenly, Liz found herself quite curious to see where Mr. Kaplan lived.

"Hard to say. She has apartments all over the city. Drop another car back." Reddington advised her. "Don't let her spot us."

Liz did as he said … only to a minute later be told … " _Don't lose her!_ Get closer! _"_

Dembe was right. Next time they stopped she was going to make him move to the backseat.

Minutes later, almost certain that they had just gone in a complete circle, Liz said it again. "Maybe she's not going anywhere. Maybe Mr. Kaplan just had enough of you for one evening."

"What's that suppose to mean?"

"You were a little rude back there."

"The Vanessa thing?"

"Amongst other things."

Reddington frowned. "Vanessa is a disaster just waiting to happen. I can already tell you how this whole Vanessa thing is going to end – not well _for me."_

"Your concern for Mr. Kaplan is _truly_ touching."

Missing her sarcasm or not caring, Reddington continued. "Kate insists it's casual, but it's not – or even if it is, it's not going to stay casual. It never does. Then things aren't going to work out and somehow Vanessa is going to blame me. The only question is if it will take even that long for Vanessa to become worthless to me."

"What do you mean?"

"Kate won't tell Vanessa what _or whom_ to do or more importantly _not_ do. Kate doesn't impose her morality on others, but it _grafts._ Kate has done a lot – and I mean _a lot_ – of questionable things in her time, but she was never one to offer what she called the girlfriend experience."

"The girlfriend experience?"

"You would be surprised how many men or women would go for the naughty librarian look."

"I … No. I really wouldn't." Liz admitted.

"Mr. Kaplan doesn't have the best track record when it comes to relationships. Things always start off well enough – Mr. Kaplan is great at beginnings – but for a while now … let's just say that Kate has had a little trouble sticking the landing. And as for Vanessa? Let's just say that with Vanessa, we're already not exactly starting off with the most stable of foundation materials. I'll consider myself _lucky_ if this ends like Des Moines."

"Des Moines?" Liz vaguely recalled the topic coming up once before. Reddington had sounded almost giddy, but Mr. Kaplan hadn't looked too thrilled at the reminder. "The coroner's sister? How did that end?"

"With me getting a backside full of buckshot."

"What?" Liz couldn't help but laugh. "How did that happen?"

"Des Moines was wonderful. Good company, _great_ food. Everybody was having a fine time. Then Kate comes up to me and says it's time to leave. Things weren't working out between her and Susan. She tells me to quickly get my things and meet her at the car.

"On the way out, I stop in the kitchen for a glass of water and run into Susan. I tell her what a wonderful time I had had and how sorry I was that things hadn't worked out between her and Mr. Kaplan, but that I hoped that we could all still be friends."

Reddington scowled. "At that point, I was still hoping to get the _full_ recipe for that wonderful barley soup we -"

Making a turn, Liz interrupted. "- Mr. Kaplan said it was Reuben soup."

Reddington shook his head. "She's remembering wrong – it was _definitely_ barley soup. There was this one secret ingredient that the coroner _refused_ to tell me. I could have _sworn_ it was cumin, but he said -"

Liz didn't care. With a grin, she instructed him. "- Skip ahead to the part where you end up with a backside full of buckshot."

Reddington rolled his eyes. "Turns out Kate was running a little dine and dash number and hadn't told Susan that they were through."

"You're kidding!" Liz laughed.

"I wish."

"I still don't understand how you got shot?"

"You've never heard the saying about the messenger?"

Wondering if there was more to it, Liz started to ask another question, but she had to stop short suddenly as Mr. Kaplan pulled over next to a parked police cruiser. The only place for Liz to pull over with such short notice was a cut out in the curb reserved just for city buses.

"What is she doing?" Liz asked. "Did they wave her down?"

Reddington frowned. "I don't think so."

Liz watched Mr. Kaplan get out of the car and approach the two uniformed officers.

Like an actor playing to the back of the theater, even from a distance, Liz could tell by Mr. Kaplan's body language that her expression was one of alarm.

"What's happening?" Liz asked.

Leaning forward to peer through the windshield, Reddington squinted and admitted. "I don't know."

It wasn't until Mr. Kaplan turned and pointed in their direction that Reddington figured out what was going on. "She made us! Drive!"

Liz tried, but the none too pleased to see her driver of the arriving bus boxed her in.

Guns drawn, the two police men approached the car.

 _tbc_

A/N Planning to post a half dozen or so updates of old stories and new stories in the next day or two. I enjoy writing longhand. Typing and editing – not so much. I have a few stories – this being one of them - where I've posted multiple chapters and not heard a peep about them. In the interests of concentrating on only the stories people are actually interested in reading, I'll give it one more chapter and then not bother to continue updating here on ffn if no one is interested. So if this or another story is piquing your interest don't be shy about saying something.


	5. Chapter 5

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 5_

"I'm on the job. I'm with the F.B.I. I'm going to pull out my ID."

"Hands on the wheel at 10 and 2!" The officer insisted.

"You get it." Liz offered. "It's in my front coat pocket."

His gun still trained on her, his partner's on Reddington, the officer reached into her pocket."

Liz started to explain. "We were following a suspect. It's dark. There were two cars that left at the same time. We picked one to follow. Clearly, we picked the wrong car to follow."

"Who's he?"

"I'm her partner. Donald Ressler, Special Agent of the F.B.I." Using just two fingers, Reddington pulled one of Ressler's business cards out of his breast pocket and handed it over.

When the officers lowered their weapons, Reddington pushed his luck. "That woman, she was at the same restaurant as our suspect. We'd like to question her. See if she saw anything suspicious."

The officer frowned. "She's pretty shook up. I'll see if she's up for it."

 _OOO_

A call came in over the officers' radio. One of them responded into his shoulder mic while the other addressed Mr. Kaplan who was still doing the sweet little old grandmother routine.

"We need to head out. You okay with us leaving you here with them? Or do you want us to walk you back to your car?"

Mr. Kaplan assured them. "I'll be fine. Thank you, officers."

Reddington waited for them to be gone before starting.

"Cute Kate."

Mr. Kaplan wasn't looking sweet and grandmotherly anymore. "What do you think you're doing, Raymond?"

"I just wanted to know who you were off to see."

"You wanted the pecan pie."

"And I wanted the pecan pie." Red admitted. "But mostly I wanted to see where you were off to so hot to trot that you couldn't spend a little time with an old friend."

Mr. Kaplan gave Reddington a withering look. "Raymond, you're not invited."

He just kept talking. "I love this coat." Reddington moved closer and gushed as he ran both of his hands along one of her sleeves. "Lizzie, come and feel this."

"I'm good." Liz deferred.

"What ever happened to the vicuna coat you promised me?"

"I said if you were a good boy. Have you been?"

Reddington pouted rather than actually answer.

"Raymond, vicunas are found only in South America. They live in wild herds under conservation laws. They can only be shorn once every 2-3 years and each vicuna only produces half a kilogram of wool a year. There's a wait list. Do you know how many vicunas it takes to make a coat?"

Reddington shook his head and admitted. "I have no idea. Really, Lizzie. You have to feel this. Do they make baby blankets out of this?"

"I think a blanket made of vicuna wool would be a little excessive?"

"Nothing is too excessive for Lizzie's baby."

"Raymond, babies are suppose to be dressed in layers because they aren't good at regulating their own body temperature. You don't want them to overheat. Vicunas live in the high altitude areas of the Andes. Their wool was adapted over thousands of years to enable them to survive sub zero temperatures. Have you never noticed that I only wear this coat in the dead of winter on below zero days or when I'm planning to be outside for hours on end digging up dead bodies for you?"

Looking mildly offended and missing her point, Reddington said. "I offered to send Dembe or Baz to do the shoveling."

Mr. Kaplan stared at him a moment before crooking a finger at Elizabeth in a beckoning motion. Liz thought Mr. Kaplan was inviting her to feel the coat, but when she got closer, Mr. Kaplan took the car keys out of Liz's hand and threw them into the bushes.

Reddington reprimanded her. "Really Kate!"

Mr. Kaplan got back into her car and drove away.

 _"Reddington!"_ In alarm, Elizabeth pointed towards Mr. Kaplan's car as it rounded the corner. _"_ Did you see that?"

Reddington nodded. "Give me the phone."

Liz gave him the burner phone. She tried to take out her more modern phone to use the flashlight app to find the car keys. She couldn't find her phone.

"Kate, just listen. Don't react. You need to turn around and come back here. There is someone in the backseat of your car. When you turned the corner, he popped up."

Without pause, Mr. Kaplan responded. "Did he have a hook for a hand? Goodnight Raymond."

"Damn it, Kate! I'm ser –" Closing the phone, he grimaced. "She hung up. Find the keys."

"What do you think I'm doing? It's dark and I can't find my phone. It must be in the car – which is locked and _thanks to you_ I don't have the keys."

Reddington handed her a pocket flashlight and made another call. "Hello Aram. I'm so sorry to disturb you at home, but Lizzie left her phone in Mr. Kaplan's coat and I simply must find it. Could you track it for us?"

 _tbc_


	6. Chapter 6

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 6_

The wheels made a screeching noise as, following Aram's directions, Liz took a sharp turn.

"I _really_ want one of those coats, but I don't want to wait another year. Surely, there is someone she could bump off to get me one sooner."

Liz wondered if he meant bump off the wait list or _bump off._

"You really should have felt it. It's so soft. That coat is a masterpiece. It is every bit a work of art as a Matisse or a Warhol." Reddington squinted his eyes. "More so than a Warhol. It's like wearable art."

Liz found it unbelievable, the way Reddington went on and on about Mr. Kaplan's coat. "You're being awfully blase about Mr. Kaplan! There was someone hiding in the backseat of her car!"

Reddington admitted. "Mr. Kaplan knew who ever was in the backseat of her car. Whoever it was, she put them there. Two things Mr. Kaplan will tell you to always do - always check the backseat before getting into a car and always double tap."

Now knowing that, Liz's worry about Mr. Kaplan turned to anger at Reddington.

"That phone was government issued! Do you have any idea how much paperwork I'm going to have to fill out for losing that?"

"It's not lost. It's with Mr. Kaplan."

Liz pulled the car to a stop. "Aram, are you sure this is the place? She still hasn't moved?"

"Yes." Aram's voice came over the speakerphone. "This incredibly amazing masterpiece of a coat – or at least your phone – should be ten feet in front of you."

"She's not here." Liz looked and saw an overnight, drive up mail drop box. Liz sighed. "Found it. Thanks Aram."

As Liz disconnected the call, a rather chipper sounding Reddington gave her an I-told-you-so. "I told you we would find your phone and we did. In two to three business days, you will have it back."

Liz didn't trust herself enough to speak. She just got out of the car.

She opened the drawer to the mailbox and using Reddington's flashlight, she tried to look inside. She couldn't see anything.

As she started to put her hand in, he warned her against it. " _Don't._ You're going to get your hand stuck in there."

She ignored his advice. "I'm _not_ going to get my hand stuck in there."

"Yes, you are."

"I'm _not_."

"No, you're right." He amended his statement as she reached further in. "You're not going to get your hand stuck in there – you're going to get your whole arm stuck in there."

"I'm not – Oh! Oh no!"

The look on his face was priceless. "Lizzie?"

"Kidding." She pulled her arm back out.

"That wasn't funny?"

"Let's just pick the lock in the back."

"A wise decision."

"Mr. Kaplan likes you. She really, really likes you." Reddington pointed out as they succeeded in getting it open and finding the box with Liz's phone. "She sprang for next day delivery."

Back in the car, phone safely in her pocket, Liz tried to get them back on track. "Let's get you back to the safe house."

"No. We haven't found out where Mr. Kaplan went yet!"

"And we're not going to! She's gone. She could be anywhere in the city! We don't even know in which direction she went!"

"That's not true." She had forgotten to make him sit in the back. Reddington went into the glove box and found a paper map. He started plotting points.

"The diner is located here.

"When I called Mr. Kaplan it took her close to fifteen minutes to get to the diner.

"By the time of night and her irritation at me for intruding on her evening, I think it is safe to say that her plans for the evening were already in progress – meaning she came from wherever she is currently headed back to.

"If we assume she was traveling at her best speed because she believed or at least was willing to entertain the possibility that I might be in actual danger -" Reddington drew a circle around the diner and then another larger circle around that circle. "- she came from somewhere in between these two circles."

Liz just stared at him.

"Now if we assume – and here is where things get really iffy – that Mr. Kaplan didn't immediately spot your atrocious attempt at tailing her … she was likely heading somewhere in _this_ vicinity."

Starting back at the diner, Reddington drew two lines at a forty-five degree angle.

The map was starting to look like something out of A Beautiful Mind.

"Did you really use to do this _all_ the time back in the day?"

"Yes. In retrospect ..." Reddington didn't sound proud as he admitted. "... it's probably why Carla asked me to move out."

Again, Liz found herself just not knowing what to say.

Reddington tapped on the paper map. "We need to start a grid search … here."

Elizabeth stared at him a full minute before taking out her cell phone. "I need to put out a BOLO on a car. It's a …

 _OOOO_

"So what is the plan?" Liz asked as she pulled Reddington's car into an empty space near Mr. Kaplan's car. "We check the hotel restaurant and bar and then start going room to room?"

"No. She's not _in_ the hotel. If she was in the hotel, she wouldn't have parked in the hotel parking lot. She parked in the hotel parking lot to throw us off."

Liz responded less than seriously. "How diabolical!"

But that wasn't how Reddington took it. "She really is."

"Let's leave the car. Wherever she went, she went on foot. That's how we should go."

Liz was far from convinced, but Reddington was already out of the car.

She sighed and mumbled to herself before getting out of the car and following him. "Dembe, you owe me big time."

Catching up with Reddington, she asked. "What are we looking for?"

"I don't know, but I'll know it when I see it."

They moved out from where the car was parked one block at a time.

By the fifth block, Liz had had enough. "It's cold. My feet were already swollen. Now they are frozen and swollen. Can we just call it a night?"

"Just one more block." Reddington assured her.

"That's what you said two blocks ago!"

And then he spotted it.

"There! That's Glen's shitbox car parked illegally … right next to Brimley's van in the handicap spot!"

Reddington was the first to notice the cars. Liz was the first to notice the sign. "Is this a joke?"

When they walked in to _Nick's Pizza_ , the young man putting the chairs on top of the tables apologized. "Sorry we're closed."

Reddington scowled. "I'm Nick's Pizza!"

"Wow really?" Looking really impressed, the kid stood a little straighter. "I thought you were made up – like Victoria from Victoria's Secret."

Afraid of what Reddington might do to the poor kid, Liz herded Reddington towards the back.

There they found Mr. Kaplan, Dembe, Baz, Mr. Brimley, Glen and Marvin.

A guilty looking Glen was the first to speak. "We were planning your surprise party!"

Even without the green felt table what they were doing was obvious. Reddington called them out on it. "No, you weren't! You were playing cards without me!"

 _tbc_


	7. Chapter 7

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 7_

There they found Mr. Kaplan, Dembe, Baz, Mr. Brimley, Glen and Marvin.

A guilty looking Glen was the first to speak. "We were planning your surprise party!"

Even without the green felt table what they were doing was obvious. Reddington called them out on it. "No, you weren't! You were playing cards without me!"

Mr. Kaplan told it to him straight. "You're a sore loser, Raymond."

"No, I'm not!"

Dembe broke it to him. "You are, Raymond."

"And you take too long on your turn." Mr. Kaplan pointed out.

Brimley complained. "You don't need to tell a story _every_ time you have to decide to call, raise or fold."

Baz spoke. "Sometimes saying less is more."

"So you gave my spot to _Glen?_ Really!? Glen!?" Reddington looked quite … vexed. "I once took Glen to a casino. _Once._ Never again. At the blackjack table, he insisted on sitting on my right. I had a split with two aces! He hit on twenty! He took my ten!"

"I have a system!"

"No you don't!"

Liz was pretty sure Glen's system was to get under Reddington's skin by whatever means necessary.

"How did you find us?" Glen asked.

Mr. Kaplan answered for him. "How do you think he found us? You two parked right in front of the building."

"I don't do well in the cold." Glen told her.

Brimley asked. "You really expected me to drag my oxygen tank four blocks through the snow?"

"It's on wheels and _yes_ , park four blocks away at a minimum."

"So Raymond …" Marvin spread his arms wide and sounding genuinely excited asked. " … what do you think of the place? Mr. Kaplan and I found it."

In the exact same petulant tone, Reddington repeated what he had told the kid out front. " _I'm_ Nick's Pizza!"

Marvin's enthusiasm didn't wane. "Well yeah, but now you _really_ are. We closed on it this morning."

Looking around at the place, Reddington seemed to be seeing it in a new light. The hackles on the back of his neck were almost down when there was a new arrival.

"The sushi has arrived!" Liz recognized Abraham – Reddington's go to plastic surgeon.

Catching sight of Reddington, he stopped short. "Oh. Hey Raymond. Good to see you."

By the look Abraham threw the others, clearly he had been told Reddington would not be in attendance.

"It seems it takes _two_ people to replace me."

Abraham set the platter of sushi down on a side table that had been set up with food and drinks.

Spotting the box with his pie in it amongst the other food items set out, Reddington crossed the room to get it. Opening the box and finding it empty, he cried out. "You animals! There were eight slices. There were only six of you before he got here! Who had seconds?"

"I'm about to start on my third." Glen volunteered. "This pie is amazing! Where did you get it?"

Apparently the diner was better known than Elizabeth realized. Dembe, Marvin, Baz and Brimley answered in unison. "Shelby."

"You don't get thirds! Only I get thirds!" Reddington grabbed the last slice from Glen.

He was about to take a bite when Mr. Kaplan stopped him. "Raymond, look around. Sushi, deli sandwiches, and a platter of unpasteurized cheeses. You do realize that that slice of pie is the _only_ thing here that Elizabeth can actually eat."

Looking at the items on the table, Liz asked. "Why is there no pizza?"

Mr. Kaplan offered. " _Clearly,_ you've never tried Nick's Pizza's pizza."

Excitement only slightly dampened, Marvin admitted. "The recipe is a work in progress."

Reddington sighed and handed the slice of pecan pie over to Liz.

Having just been dragged countless blocks by him, Liz took great relish in biting into it in front of him. "Amazing! Tell Shelby I am switching to pecan from now on."

"I used to have a car named Shelby." Glen offered.

Reddington called him out. "You never owned a Shelby Cobra! My God, you are such a compulsive liar!"

Glen jabbed a finger Reddington's way. "I never said I owned a Cobra. It was a car that _I_ named Shelby."

"No." Reddington shook his head. "Just _no_. You don't do that."

"It was a Ford Pinto."

" **Leave!** Now! Just go!"

"Hey! I was invited – which is more than you can say!"

Reddington said it again. "I cannot believe you gave my seat to _Glen?_!"

Liz couldn't help but laugh at how upset Glen could get Reddington and how quickly. She wasn't the only one.

Reddington singled out Dembe. "How is _this_ getting a better work life balance?"

Grabbing a chair, Reddington dragged it towards the table. "Deal me in."

 _tbc_


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Wasn't much interest so I didn't bother to keep posting this one, but it ties into a few other stories so I am putting up a couple more chapters.

 _The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 8_

Grabbing a chair, Reddington dragged it towards the table. "Deal me in."

Glen protested. "We already started playing. We're in the middle of a round."

Marvin pointed out. "Letting you buy in now wouldn't be fair to those of us who have already lost half their shirt."

"Half your shirt? You're about to go out on the next ante." Glen gloated.

Given the shortness of his stack, Marvin could hardly disagree.

"Fine." Sounding as if it was anything but fine, Reddington agreed. "I'll wait until the next buy in."

Putting down his hat, Reddington moved over to the makeshift bar and started fixing himself a drink. "So Kate, I was thinking a little bit more about you and Shelby."

Her turn to deal, Mr. Kaplan kept her focus on passing out the cards. "Please don't."

"Shelby is perfect for you. She's smart. She's funny. She's pretty. She has sass. You like sass. She's a little younger than you, but clearly that's not something you object to. She's -"

Marvin groaned and threw back his head. "- Do you know what I did _not_ miss while in prison?"

"Having to listen to Raymond try to play matchmaker for Mr. K." Brimley suggested throwing in a few more chips.

"Having to listen to Raymond try to play matchmaker for Mr. Kaplan." Marvin agreed.

"If you think that's bad – try being the one he's playing matchmaker _for._ " Mr. Kaplan grumbled as she picked up her own cards.

"Really, Kate, Shelby is perfect for you. She even knows about your … _hobbies_ and she is okay with it."

" _My hobbies?_ Raymond, I wouldn't exactly call cleaning up after you my idea of a _hobby_ and thanks to you, Vanessa knows too."

"Yes, but with Shelby, if you go out to dinner with her, no one is going to approach the table and tell you how nice it must be to have a granddaughter who makes the time to spend time with you."

Mr. Kaplan tapped the table to check as it came round to her turn to bet. "Raymond, if I'm not bothered by the age difference and she's not bothered by the age difference, why are you?"

"Because I just don't see you being happy with Vanessa long-term."

Mr. Kaplan was showing far more patience than Liz would have. "Neither do I, but I'm okay with that because I'm not looking for anything long-term. I don't want anything serious. I just want something very casual."

"Hit it and quit it. That's what I always say." Glen chimed in.

"She's just not right for you." Reddington continued to protest.

"Raymond, don't you think that I might be a better judge of that than you are?"

" _No."_ Reddington answered immediately and emphatically. "You have terrible taste in women, Kate. _Horrible_ taste. I've been thinking about this for a while and I don't think you should pick your own girlfriends anymore."

Unable or unwilling to come up with a response, Mr. Kaplan just looked at him.

"I'm not saying you shouldn't have _any_ input into the matter. I'm just saying you should let me curate them for you. I could screen the options, weed out the ones that wouldn't be a good fit and more importantly wouldn't be able to pass a standard police academy psych screening and present you with only the best candidates. The crème de la creme."

Mr. Kaplan was starting to looked a bit put out. "Raymond, not one person sitting at this table would pass a standard psych evaluation."

"That's not true." Marvin argued. "We'd all pass – we'd lie our asses off to do it, but we'd all pass."

Liz was surprised to hear Dembe hesitantly speak up. "It's not a bad idea, Kate."

Mr. Kaplan tried to argue. "My taste in women isn't _that_ bad."

Liz was even more surprised to hear Baz pipe up. "No comment."

Reddington added. "Kate, I'm not saying that when Baz has his men run training exercises he has them use a mock up of the apartment layout of one of your ex-girlfriend's ... but I'm also not saying that he _doesn't_."

Mr. Kaplan turned to Baz who suddenly looked very interested in his cards.

Even Brimley got in on it. "The seven happiest days of my life were the day I met the second Mrs. Brimley, the day each of my four daughters were born, the day I bought my boat, the day I sold my boat and the day you broke my daughter's heart by turning her away telling her you didn't think of her that way. A man knows he raised his daughter right when you have no interest in her."

Mr. Kaplan rolled her eyes.

"That's eight days." Abraham pointed out.

"No, it's seven. During labor with my third daughter, my wife told me I had to get rid of my boat. The doctor who delivered her bought the boat."

Glen asked. "Your wife made you get rid of your boat with number three? What did she make you get rid of with number four?"

Brimley made the fingers of one hand into scissors and mimed going snip, snip.

All the men winced.

Turning to Reddington, Mr. Kaplan asked. "Are you done? Because we were all really hoping to actually get to play poker for once."

"I had one about having to start to keep animal tranquilizer darts in the trunk of the car, but I can keep it locked and loaded for next time."

At last Mr. Kaplan hit back. "Raymond, why would I or _anyone_ for that matter let you play matchmaker for them?

Reddington sounded offended. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"You did such a wonderful job selecting a boyfriend for Elizabeth."

" _Tom_? I didn't hire Tom to be her boyfriend. He was just suppose to be her friend … who was a boy."

Liz wasn't happy to get dragged into the conversation. "What's wrong with Tom?"

"Shall we start and end with he's given you a concussion on more than one occasion? Or do you want to hear more?" Mr. Kaplan asked.

Turning back to Reddington, Mr. Kaplan told him. "You are really making much more out of this than you need to. I already told you – the thing with Vanessa, it's not anything serious. It's very casual."

"I wish it were that simple, Kate, but with you it never is. You have a tendency to bring out the crazy in women, Kate. You're like catnip for crazy women. You're Katenip."

"Mr. Kaplan brings out the crazy _in women."_ After having spent the evening with Reddington trying to chase down Mr. Kaplan, it was all Liz could do not to snort. " _Just_ women."

"Kate, the first time I met Vanessa she pulled a gun on me. She made Dembe and I handcuff ourselves to chairs."

"Raymond, you broke into her apartment."

"She wasn't home. Dembe and I let ourselves in and sat on her living room furniture to wait for her. What was I suppose to do? Wait on her doorstep? In case you have forgotten - I'm on the FBI's Most Wanted List."

Mr. Kaplan wasn't impressed. "As you just pointed out, she had never met you. She didn't know who you were. Maybe you'll think next time before letting yourself into a woman's apartment unannounced."

Reddington accepted _some_ culpability. "I admit, this situation is partially my fault. I don't know what I was thinking sending _you_ to meet with Vanessa. She's high maintenance, she's homicidal, and she's gorgeous. She checks every one of your boxes."

Liz raised an eyebrow because that description – well maybe not gorgeous _exactly_ – fit Reddington pretty well himself.

She glanced at Mr. Kaplan, but she seemed to have given up and was back to ignoring Reddington - or at least trying to.

Reddington tried to get the conversation back on track – his track. "Now about Shelby. She _really_ likes you. Why won't you even consider the idea of dating her?"

Mr. Kaplan denied the obvious. "Shelby does not like me."

Reddington protested. "Shelby has a thing for you. Shelby has _always_ had a thing for you!"

Liz felt a little bad about ganging up on Mr. Kaplan, but she had to agree. "Shelby definitely has a thing for you."

Even Marvin piled on. "She saves the _last_ piece of pie for you. I don't even do that for Becky."

Mr. Kaplan was not looking happy to be the current topic of conversation.

"Raymond ..." It was Mr. Brimley who put an end to Reddington shipping Mr. Kaplan and Shelby ... at least temporarily. " … you do realize that when it's over none of us can ever go back to the diner again. _Not ever._ "

His finished drink in hand and a bit of a pout on his face, Reddington sat back down.

Trying to change the subject for Mr. Kaplan's sake, Liz turned to Reddington's plastic surgeon. "So what kind of work has Reddington had done?"

Dr. Maltz scoffed. "A better question would be what _hasn't_ he had done."

"Hey! How about a little doctor patient confidentiality!" Reddington protested.

Abraham threw up his hands in surrender, but as soon as Reddington turned away, Abraham whispered. "I'm particularly proud of the cheek implants I did for him."

Liz looked at Reddington's face in profile. She wasn't seeing it. As if reading her thoughts, Abraham added. "Other cheeks."

"No!" Liz gasped and laughed.

Abraham smiled before asking her. "You ever think of getting a little work done?"

He tapped his own nose in a suggestive manner.

Liz's hand instinctively went to her nose. She wasn't laughing anymore. "No!"

 _tbc_

A/N If you are reading be a dear and leave a review to let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 9_

Wanting to change both the subject and her conversation partner, Liz looked around at those assembled and asked. "So which one of you was in the backseat of the car?"

Without waiting for an answer, she suggested. " _Dembe?"_

"Baz came too." Dembe told her.

Still working on the final piece of the much contested pie, Liz turned and pointed her fork in Mr. Kaplan's direction. "So you stopped your car and flagged down two police officers with those two upstanding citizens crouched down in the backseat of your car? That didn't seem a little risky to you?"

"Please!" Reddington scoffed. "I've seen Mr. Kaplan offer to open her trunk for the police with half a dozen dead bodies and two live ones in the trunk."

Mr. Kaplan denied his claim. "Don't listen to him. He's making that up."

" _I_ was one of the live ones." Reddington insisted. "Right before she closed the trunk on us, she told us that if the police looked inside we should just claim we were trying to sneak into the drive-in without paying."

"The drive-in?" Liz raised an eyebrow. " _When_ was this?"

Mr. Kaplan was dismissive. "That _never_ happened."

Liz looked between the two of them not sure who to believe, but Reddington had another story to top that one. "Mr. Kaplan has shaken hands with a U.S. Marshall while _wearing_ a man's hand like it was a glove so she could leave fingerprints at a fresh crime scene to prove the hand's original owner was still alive. Spoiler alert – he was _not_."

Mr. Kaplan didn't dispute that accusation, but she did qualify it. "I didn't shake with the hand wearing the hand."

Liz made a face. "I don't know if I want to hear that story."

But then immediately found herself admitting. "Oh who am I trying to kid? I _have_ to hear that story."

"It's not much of a story. I needed to prove that someone wasn't dead. So I took his hand and I left his fingerprints in various places."

 _"By wearing it?"_

Liz had once seen a coroner attempt to get fingerprints by rehydrating the finger of a deceased burn victim, removing the bone and slipping the layers of skin over his own gloved finger to print the finger … but never a whole hand.

"It was a lot less conspicuous than walking around the courthouse with the hand in my hand."

"That's messed up." Glen informed her in case she didn't already know.

"You had to wear it? You couldn't have just put it in your bag?" Liz suggested before turning to Reddington and narrowing her eyes. "What did you do that necessitated her doing _that_?"

"Oh no, no, no!" Reddington wasn't having any of that. "That was _not_ done on my behalf. I draw the line somewhere and that somewhere is pretty far _before_ asking anyone to walk around in a suit made out of other people. It was for the brother of the woman Kate was seeing."

"Do I even want to know what he did?"

Liz wasn't sure if Mr. Kaplan's mild look of exasperation as she answered was directed at her for asking or at the brother of the woman she had been seeing. "He killed an associate in front of an undercover FBI agent. It was also caught on a wire, but because the FBI didn't have the body -"

Liz couldn't help but interrupt. "- Clearly _not_ if you were able to get the guy's hand."

Unphased, Mr. Kaplan kept going. "- it was a bit of a he said he said situation. I discredited the FBI agent's testimony and called into question the authenticity of all of the FBI's wire tapes by putting the supposed victim's prints in the courthouse during the grand jury proceedings."

Thinking it likely that the apple didn't fall far from the other apple, Liz had to ask ... "I'm going to go out on a limb here and suggest that Vanessa isn't your first girlfriend who was a homicidal maniac?"

Mr. Kaplan took issue with _part_ of Liz's statement. "Vanessa _isn't_ my girlfriend."

Reddington answered for her. "No, Vanessa is not the first."

Finished with the pie, finding herself with a unique opportunity, Liz again looked around at the people at the table. She settled on Brimley as – or at least as she thought – the oldest. "So … how did you meet Reddington?"

Picking up his freshly dealt cards, Brimley tipped his head in Mr. Kaplan's direction.

"Okay ..." Liz asked a follow up question. "How did you meet Mr. Kaplan?"

Throwing away his hand, Brimley answered. "One day my no good cousin and I set out to go rob an armored truck. It was our first time and we weren't sure of the truck's route so we were sitting there outside this bank waiting for the truck to show up. Our plan was pretty simple. My cousin, he owned a revolver and I borrowed my father's old luger from the war. We were just going to wait for the truck to arrive, follow it, shoot out the tires somewhere a little more deserted before its next stop, kill the two guards and take the money.

"While we were waiting, we were checking out these two girls chatting in another car. Couldn't hear what they were saying but it looked intense. The older one looked worried.

"The little one gets out of the car and goes inside the bank right before the armored car we were waiting for pulls up.

"Now this bank didn't have an armed guard, but the older one of the girls, the one who was still in the car, she sees one of the fellows get out of the truck _with_ a gun. She gets out of her car.

"Now when I tell you this gal was a knockout – and in more ways than one - you better believe it. Gorgeous red hair. Alabaster skin. These long, _long_ legs. She wasn't chubby by any means, but she wasn't one of those skinny minnies either. She had -"

"- A little cushion for the pushin'!" Glen gave his seal of approval.

Reddington put him in his place before Mr. Kaplan, who had an elbow on the table and was resting her chin on the open palm of her hand as she looked down at her cards, could so much as turn her head. "Honest to God, Glen, one more word out of you -"

"- What?" Glen feigned ignorance. "I'm not into preggos -" Glen's look of revulsion as he glanced Liz's way was completely mutual. "- but I have been known to chubby chase."

"Glen ..." Reddington sounded menacing.

Brimley gave Glen side eye as he continued with his story. "I just told you – she wasn't chubby. She was buxom. She had a set of -"

"- _Really_? You're as bad as Glen! Is _that_ absolutelynecessary to the story?" Reddington asked.

"It's relevant!" Brimley protested.

Without looking, Mr. Kaplan halfheartedly defended Brimley. "It actually _is_ relevant to the story."

"Thank you. Now as I was saying ..." Mr. Brimley persisted. "… tugging on her necklace, looking real nervous, she heads towards the bank hurrying to try to get there before the fellow from the truck. That fellow, he had to get his little dolly out of the back of the truck so she had time.

"Right before she gets to the door her necklace breaks. These little beads go rolling _everywhere._ It was one of those multiple row pearl necklaces so there were a lot of them. She starts trying to pick them up. She's pretty so of course the armed guard heading towards the bank stops to help her.

"She's _real_ pretty so of course my cousin and I go help."

Listening, Liz's eyebrows started to lift.

"She's _so_ pretty that all the fellows passing on the street stop to help."

Her eyebrows went higher.

"Even the armored truck _driver_ gets out to help."

And higher.

"The knockout's little friend comes out of the bank. She takes one look at what is going on and she don't miss a beat. She bumps into the driver as she passes by. She says something by way of apology, but he doesn't pay her no mind.

"Next thing we all know, the truck's driving away. No fuss. No muss."

Impressed, Liz turned to Mr. Kaplan. "You stole an armored truck full of money by doing a bump and grab?!"

Mr. Kaplan didn't respond. Game play had stalled, but she was still staring at her cards.

Brimley went on. "We're all standing around in disbelief – me, my no good cousin, the two fellows from the truck, the bank manager who came outside not a minute after the girl and even the knockout.

"Now the knockout, she had such a look of shock – just like the rest of us – that none of the others thought anything of her being there. She left. She got back into her car and started to drive off.

"My cousin and I, we'd been there for a while watching, waiting for the truck, so we knew that the two girls, they were there together. So while everyone else was all up in arms … we follow the knockout.

"She was so upset that she didn't pay no mind to us tailing her. She led us right to where the armored car was just sitting waiting. My cousin and I went around from behind and we snuck up on them. The knockout was all upset because the little one left her, but the little one couldn't understand why she's upset because according to her, the plan they went over in the car was always for them to leave separately and meet up where they were now."

"The little one does have a name." Reddington pointed out.

Brimley threw up a hand in a mea culpa before going on. "Mr. Kaplan was still trying to settle down the knockout when she noticed us standing there watching them.

"Now like I said earlier, my cousin and I, we had guns. The ladies, they didn't. My cousin – he was kind of a not very nice fellow – he decides that since the girls didn't have any guns, him and I should just take the loot _and_ since there were two of us and two of them, we should each get a girl."

Brimley said it like it was no big thing. Liz glanced towards Mr. Kaplan looking for a reaction, but she wasn't offering one.

"Now I was okay with killing the fellows from the armored car, but I already had a girl – too many as a matter of fact. That's why I was there to rob the truck.

"I had a girl and I wanted to marry her. Problem was the late Mrs. Brimley's father said no way, no how. He didn't think I could afford to support a family on account of I was still paying alimony to the first Mrs. Brimley.

"I needed to show him I had the money to take care of his daughter. Problem was, I didn't."

"So you decided to rob an armored car to get the money." Liz suggested.

"Exactly." Brimley agreed. "My cousin tells me he's taking the redhead and if I don't want the other girl I should just be done with it and go ahead and kill her right then. I didn't think that was necessary. I told him I didn't see why we couldn't just take the money and leave the girls. What were they going to do - call the cops on us for stealing the money they stole?

"The two of us are arguing back and forth because I didn't sign up to kill no girls.

"Because we have guns and they don't and because they're girls – truthfully, mostly because they're girls –" Brimley admitted with a sheepish shrug. "- we're not paying too much attention to them as we argue – especially not once my cousin asks what's to stop him from shooting all three of us and taking _all_ of the loot for himself.

"As things start to get real heated between the two of us, the knockout picks up a little tree branch that was just laying there on the ground. She breaks out with what would later come to be known as her signature move. She bashed my cousin in the head with it.

"Then, she passes out on account of she can't take the sight of all the blood that came out."

"What?!" Liz asked almost laughing.

"You heard me." Mr. Brimley told her.

"Mr. Kaplan and me, we talk it out. We agree that I'll take care of my cousin and get rid of the truck. In exchange, we split the loot three ways."

"How did your cousin take it when he woke up?" Liz asked.

"Oh, he didn't wake up. He was deader than a doornail. Kate's missus didn't mess around when she hit people in the head. You are looking at one of the very few to ever survive it."

Liz was confused. "I thought she passed out after hitting your cousin?"

"She did." Brimley agreed. He lifted up the little tube that constantly supplied him with oxygen. " _This_ is a whole 'nother story for a whole 'nother time."

Liz blinked.

Brimley shrugged. "I'll be honest – my cousin wasn't much of a loss. And I liked Mr. Kaplan's style a lot better than my cousin's. No muss, no fuss. I told her to keep in touch and if she wanted to do it again ..."

Liz again glanced towards Mr. Kaplan who had been quiet for the most part throughout the story. Her eyes were still on her cards, but Liz wouldn't say that her focus was there. She looked too contemplative for that.

"I kind of don't want to wait. Can I get the other story now?" Liz asked nicely.

Playing with his glass of by now just mostly melted ice, Reddington, who was usually quite the storyteller, wryly gave a quick and less than engaging 3 line rendition. "Mr. Kaplan's girlfriend caught Teddy adjusting the rear view mirror so he could peek at Mr. Kaplan while she was in the backseat getting changed into a police woman's uniform. She grabbed the billy club that was part of the uniform and started hitting him with it. She felt _quite strongly_ that Mr. Kaplan's tatas were reserved for her viewing pleasure only."

"Tatas?" Marvin raised an eyebrow. "Now who's starting to sound like Glen?"

"You people don't have to say it like it's a bad thing." Glen grumbled.

"I had it coming." Brimley admitted. "My behavior, it was disrespectful both to Mr. Kaplan and to her missus. She trusted me to look out for Kate and I violated that trust. I took advantage of her."

At least to Liz's ear, the first part sounded sincere. The second part, on the other hand, sounded like a lecture that had been beaten into him – from the sounds of it quite literally.

"Maybe _you_ had it coming," Reddington argued, "but _not_ the rest of the people in the car you were _driving."_

"Wait?" Liz realized she maybe should have picked up on that at the mention of adjusting the rear view mirror. "She started hitting you _while_ you were driving?"

No, clearly, Vanessa was not Mr. Kaplan's first homicidal girlfriend.

"She may have been nice to look at, but she was hardly what I would have called her generation's best or brightest."

Mr. Kaplan didn't contradict Reddington, but his words did at last manage to get her to turn away from her cards to fix him with a look of disappointment.

Liz suggested a reason for Reddington's obvious disregard for Mr. Kaplan's former girlfriend. "Were you in the car too or did she try to hit you on the head some _other_ time?"

An irritated Reddington answered simply. "Neither."

Liz wondered if this was the same girlfriend from the hand story or a different one. Before she could ask, Mr. Kaplan's phone started ringing.

 _tbc_

A/N Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	10. Chapter 10

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 10_

Mr. Kaplan's phone rang.

She fished it out of the pocket of her bag. After just a glance, she hit the button to send the caller straight to voice mail and dropped it back into her bag.

"Who was it?" Reddington asked.

Done with the pie, but still hungry, Liz got up to raid the bar of all the olives, cherries and other edible drink garnishes.

When Mr. Kaplan didn't answer, he answered for her. "That was Vanessa, wasn't it? Calling to check up on you?"

"She's not calling to check up on me."

"She's suppose to be working. She's not suppose to be calling you. Why is she calling you?"

"Raymond, how would I know why she's calling? Did you see me answer the call?"

"Don't you think that you _should_ answer? Find out _why_ she is calling?"

"No. I'm busy."

"You're her handler. What if it's important?"

"Then she would have left a message or she'll call back. If it's that important, I'm sure she'll think to call you. That is what you wanted, isn't it? For you to take over as her handler?"

Reddington looked appalled. "I don't want to handle her after you've handled her."

Glen interrupted their not exactly tete a tete. "Playing hard to get. That's the way to do it. Every woman that calls me, I make it a point to wait at least two days to call her back. Every time she calls again, it restarts the clock."

"Glen, you work at the DMV. The only women who ever _deliberately_ call you are calling because they have to."

Reddington kicked Glen so Glen kicked back, but with a devious little glint, he didn't strike back directly. Instead, Glen asked Mr. Kaplan. "Which part is weirder? That he has you sending _your girlfriend_ out to seduce someone or that he has you sending _your girlfriend_ out to seduce a man?"

Plate in hand, Liz turned to gauge the reaction to that one, but Mr. Kaplan had her story and she was sticking to it.

"She's _not_ my girlfriend."

Reddington lamented. "You weren't supposed to get involved with her. All you were suppose to do was intercept her at the airport and bring her to the safe house to hand her off to me."

"We're not involved and that is exactly what I did." Mr. Kaplan countered. "I brought her to her new apartment just like you asked me to. I told her that you would be there shortly to introduce yourself and I left. It's not my fault that you stood her up and she kept calling me."

"I didn't stand her up." Reddington started out insistent, but then he asked. "Did I?"

"You did, Raymond. Do you remember what day it was that I had my first meeting with Vanessa?" Mr. Kaplan didn't wait for him to try to guess. "It was the day that you got shot by the Cabal."

"Wait, which one is Vanessa?" Marvin asked. "I'd like to put a face to the name. Do you have a picture?"

"No." Was Mr. Kaplan's clipped reply. "I do not."

"Of course not because that's the kind of thing you do with a girlfriend and she's not your girlfriend." Marvin smiled good-naturedly.

Liz realized that she very well could. "Hold on. I might still have the photo composite Aram made on my phone."

"Elizabeth, that's _not_ necessary."

"It's no trouble." Liz assured Mr. Kaplan as she put down her plate to take out her phone and scroll through her saved images.

Glen raised an eyebrow as he asked. "You don't have a picture of your girlfriend, but she does?"

"She's not my girlfriend. We're not dating. It's very casual."

Liz found it and passed it to Marvin.

Marvin looked at the image. Impressed, he declared. "High five to Mr. Kaplan!"

Seeing Mr. Kaplan leave Marvin hanging, Liz realized maybe Mr. Kaplan's 'not necessary' wasn't about not wanting to trouble Liz with looking for the photo.

"High five?" Leaning over to grab the phone for a look, Glen recoiled. "Yowzers, what's wrong with her face?"

"Cruz is well versed at dodging security cameras. We didn't have any photos of her whole face. It's a composite of several partial images." Liz explained.

"So she doesn't really look like Frankenstein's monster all stitched together?"

"No."

Glen looked it at it again. "In that case ... I'd do her."

"Charming." Mr. Kaplan didn't sound charmed.

With a flourish, Reddington held out a hand Glen's way and asked. "And who's brilliant idea was it to invite him?"

Rather than try to reach over to return the phone to Liz, Glen just passed it along to the next person.

"How did you manage to land that?" Glen asked.

"Don't be rude, Glen." Reddington reprimanded him before himself asking. "How _did_ you manage to land that?"

Mr. Kaplan ignored them both.

"Very nice." Abraham commented on the photo before passing the phone on it's way and making Mr. Kaplan an offer. "Call my receptionist. Set up a time for next week. Come by the office and I'll give you a tune up."

"A what?" Liz asked.

Liz had asked the question, but Abraham addressed Mr. Kaplan directly. "You have really nice skin. You've done a good job taking care of yourself. Keeping out of the sun and all that, but with a little lift here, some botox here – I could shave fifteen, twenty years even off your look."

Mr. Kaplan declined the offer. "I am comfortable in the skin I am in."

"You've seen my work. You _know_ that I'm am the _best_ at what I do."

Liz didn't say anything as her phone reached Mr. Kaplan and Mr. Kaplan deleted the photo from Liz's phone. She was just glad that she wasn't the one on the receiving end of the glare Mr. Kaplan was giving to Abraham as he continued to press the idea.

"Come on, Mr. Kaplan. All the work Raymond has had you bring my way over the years, it would be on the house. Consider it my treat. What do you say?"

Mr. Kaplan didn't say anything, but Reddington did. "Abraham, as the weeks roll by one by one and you _never_ get another invite and you start to wonder _why_ … remember this exact moment."

Dembe tried to draw everyone's attention back to the game by beginning to deal out the cards.

They made it one whole hand before ...

Apropo of nothing, Reddington turned to Mr. Kaplan. "Do you know who I think would be a good match for you? Margaret Fitch."

"Oh boy." Baz threw down his cards.

"Margaret is such an absolutely lovely woman. I can't believe I didn't think of her before now. She's your age. She's intelligent. She's witty. She's easy on the eyes. It's been a respectable amount of time since Alan's passing. You should reach out to her. Offer your condolences."

 _"No."_

"Why not?"

Mr. Kaplan offered not the slightest bit of encouragement, but Reddington's excitement at the idea was clearly building as he went on. "Margaret would be _perfect_ for you. She such a dear, sweet woman and she's classy. You have a lot in common. You both enjoy the theatre and fine art - and because of Alan, I'm sure she is accustomed to not asking questions about phone calls in the middle of the night or long, odd work hours. What's wrong with Margaret?"

"What's wrong? Let's see - where to start? First of all, Raymond, she's not a lesbian."

 _"Please!"_ There was something more than a little off with Reddington's full throated chuckle in response. "Since when has that stopped you before?"

Mr. Kaplan gave a little eye roll. "Raymond, my line about getting to have a little fun while still saving yourself for marriage and not having to worry about getting pregnant worked in _the_ 60's. It doesn't work now with me in my 70's."

Looking at his cards and shaking his head, Glen agreed. "She's right. I have been trying that line for years, Raymond. Chicks don't bite."

Reddington started to say something to Glen, but then just shook his head and seemed to decide it was best to just ignore him.

"You _say_ she's not a lesbian." Reddington put his hand in the air in a waffling motion. "Eh … for _you_ I think Margaret could be. I really do."

"Anybody else need a refill?" Marvin offered as he stood and headed to the bar.

The olives having made her thirsty, Liz asked. "Is there anything without alcohol?"

With an apologetic look, Marvin held up the bottle of cranberry juice he had just emptied topping off his cranberry and vodka drink.

He tried to offer her a bottle of grenadine. "No alcohol in here."

"No, it's just gestational diabetes in convenient bottle form."

Dembe got up and left.

Reddington ignored them all. "Is Vanessa? Vanessa was married. To a man – quite happily I might add if her vengeance rampage was any indication."

"She seems to know the basic mechanics." Mr. Kaplan retorted before ticking off another reason she wouldn't be dating Alan Fitch's widow. "Secondly, I'm not going to date someone I have kidnapped."

Liz asked. _"You kidnapped Alan Fitch's wife?"_

Reddington ignored Liz's interruption. "It was only for a long weekend and Margaret doesn't _know_ she was kidnapped by you. I don't think she even knows she _was_ kidnapped. I'm _almost_ certain Alan never told her."

Liz interrupted again. "Hold on! How do you kidnap someone for days without them knowing?"

"It's one of Mr. Kaplan's _many_ talents."

Returning with a ginger ale from the cooler out front, Dembe handed it to her.

"Raymond, I don't have very many hard and fast rules, but one that I do have is not sleeping with someone whose head I have held a gun to."

Reddington looked like he was trying to come up with a counterargument, but in the end he just sighed frustrated. "I just want to find you a nice girl."

He wasn't the only one getting frustrated. An irritated Glen asked. "How come no one wants to put this much effort into finding me a new girlfriend?"

Reddington told him. "Because you're a lost cause."

"Hey! I'm trying to be serious here. I could use some help. There's this girl I like. She's a real honey. She's a bartender over at the Old Colony Inn."

Reddington asked him. "You met her at your no-tell motel?"

Glen continued. "I've tried asking her out, but she keeps giving me the brush off."

"Were you alone at the time you asked her out or were you with one of your by the hour entertainers?"

"What does that matter?" Glen's non answer was an answer.

Liz had to ask. "You didn't actually call her 'honey' did you?"

"I may have used the term sweet-cheeks."

Liz agreed with Reddington. "It's a lost cause."

Mr. Brimley opened up about his own women troubles. "I think I'm going to be in the market for a new girlfriend."

"What's the matter with the one you have?" Marvin asked.

"She stopped putting out."

Liz tried not to choke on the ginger ale Dembe had brought her.

Reddington looked at him disapprovingly. "Seven years in and suddenly she starts having scruples? I don't buy it. What did you do?"

" _Nothing!"_ Brimley answered a little too quickly.

Baz spoke. "Describe nothing."

"We went to the supermarket together last week like we always do. While she was in line at the deli counter, I took the cart to the produce section. There was a girl there. She was trying to pick a melon. She was doing it wrong. _All_ I was doing was trying to show her the right way to pick a melon. The deli line moved a little faster than usual. My girlfriend showed up."

Reddington looked dubious.

"On the ride home she told me I could either put a ring on her finger or I needed to start wearing a raincoat."

Reddington wasn't the only one unconvinced. Marvin asked. "What were you doing to the melon?"

Brimley ignored him. "I told her not to be ridiculous. I promised if I got her knocked up at her age I would take her down to the courthouse to make an honest woman of her on our way to the offices of _The National Enquirer_ to have our pictures taken _._ "

Abraham piped up with a not so fun fact. "Condoms aren't just for preventing pregnancy. Because they aren't worried about getting pregnant the over sixty crowd is the fastest growing segment for new cases of HIV and other STDs."

Mr. Brimley looked offended, but Abraham didn't give him time to express it before going on to suggest. "You should move to Florida."

Reddington looked mildly alarmed. "No, he should _not_."

Abraham persisted. "In Florida, at your age, women outnumber men 3 to 1. You'd be swimming in -"

"- Thank you, Abraham." Reddington interrupted. "But Teddy has a life here with family and friends. He doesn't want to move to Florida."

Mr. Kaplan made a different suggestion. "You might want to put a little more consideration into putting a ring on it. Your daughter called me last week. Your girls have been plotting against you. They don't like the idea of you living alone. They want you to consider living with one of them or moving into assisted living."

"Assisted living?" Mr. Brimley looked horrified. Doubly so, as he added. "That _better_ be all you talked about."

Mr. Kaplan rolled her eyes.

The words were no sooner out of his mouth, Reddington latched onto the idea. "You should date Brimley's daughter!"

"No, she shouldn't!" Brimley responded.

Only as an afterthought, Reddington asked. "Which one was it?"

Mr. Kaplan turned her glare onto Reddington. " It was Alice who called and I wouldn't date her or _any_ of Teddy's daughters."

"Excuse you?" Suddenly Brimley who a minute ago didn't want Mr. Kaplan anywhere near his daughter was getting offended. "What's wrong with my daughters? They're not good enough for you?"

"What's wrong with them?" Mr. Kaplan countered. "Teddy, I find it disturbing that I have to actually spell out for you why I would never date them. They are your daughters. I've known them since they were children. I'm not going to date someone that I have taken to the zoo!

"Oh yeah." And Mr. Brimley lost his offended air.

"What happened to not having very many hard and fast rules?" Reddington protested as Mr. Kaplan gave her reasoning for rebuffing his suggestion of dating one of Brimley's daughters.

Mr. Kaplan wouldn't dignify the question with a response, but Reddington wouldn't give up. He tried to argue. "The zoo is a perfectly legitimate date destination and sure, it would have been creepy if you started dating one of them as soon as they turned eighteen or even when they were in their twenties or thirties, but once they hit their forties and fifties, I don't really think it's creepy anymore."

"No, Raymond, it's still creepy."

Reddington looked to the others. Liz was no help. Marvin just winced. Baz not surprisingly said nothing.

"It's one thing to date someone half your age, but one of your friend's daughters or your daughter's friends ..." Abraham cringed. "... Yeah, that's creepy at any age."

Glen disagreed. "I wouldn't have a problem with it."

"Okay." With that, Reddington finally admitted defeat. "It's creepy."

 _tbc_

A/N Reviews are greatly appreciated.


	11. Chapter 11

_The Usual Suspects_

 _Chapter 11_

Marvin tried to change the topic for Mr. Kaplan. "So I have some exciting news. _Terrifying,_ but exciting news. Becky and I have been talking about maybe trying to have a baby."

"That's great, Marvin. That's really great. I'm happy for you."

Clearly Reddington meant it, because he lasted a whole sixty seconds while the others congratulated Marvin before he managed to use it to segue back into trying to talk Mr. Kaplan into breaking up with Vanessa.

"Marvin and Becky are going to have a baby. Brimley's going to get remarried _again -_ "

"- Whoa!" Brimley protested. "Who said anything about me getting married?"

"Raincoats and assisted living?" Reddington grimaced. "That's no kind of life for you my friend. Tomorrow, you and I are going ring shopping. I know just the place."

Brimley didn't look convinced, but Reddington was already moving on. "Kate, have you noticed everyone around you is entering into long-term commitments. That's all I want for you, Kate, and I just don't see that happening with Vanessa."

"That's wonderful, Raymond, but what about what I want for me? I'm not looking for something serious or a long-term commitment. I just want something casual."

As if on cue, Mr. Kaplan's phone started ringing.

Reddington raised an eyebrow. "Is that her? Calling again?"

It kept ringing, but Mr. Kaplan didn't even take out her phone to look at it.

" _High maintenance._ Tell me something, Kate. Did you explain to _her_ that this is just something casual."

Mr. Kaplan didn't respond.

The phone kept ringing.

"You're not going to pick up?"

Mr. Kaplan looked at him like he was being ridiculous. "With this audience? No."

"You're _really_ not going to pick up?" Reddington asked again.

Glen tried to make her feel bad about not answering. "You're the worst girlfriend ever."

"I'm not her girlfriend. She's not my girlfriend. It's _very_ casual."

Glen's tone sounded concerned. "What if it's an emergency?"

As it kept ringing, Liz began to wonder just how many times Mr. Kaplan's phone was set to ring before going to voice mail.

"It's not an emergency. There is a code for emergencies. If it was an emergency she would use it."

"Maybe she forgot it." Glen suggested.

By Mr. Kaplan's look it was obvious she found that unlikely, but Glen wouldn't quit.

He started going through all the worst case scenarios. "Maybe she got into a car accident and she's stuck on the side of the road in a ditch."

He gestured to Reddington. "Maybe the creep he sent her after got a little fresh and she's locked herself in the bathroom and is calling you for help."

Not getting the response he was going for, Glen kept on. "Maybe she's locked in the trunk of a car with her hands tied behind her back and the only button on her phone that she can reach with her perfect little nose is the redial button."

And on …

"Maybe the creep she is with pushed the car off of a pier and into the ocean and she's slowly sinking to the bottom of -"

With a supreme look of irritation, Mr. Kaplan finally took out the phone to answer. "Hello."

Liz didn't think Glen's grin bode well.

"No, I'm not working, but now's -"

Glen began making loud kissing noises.

"- not a good time to talk. Can this wait?"

Abraham joined in with the kissing noises.

"Try baking soda. If there's no baking soda try lemon juice. If -"

As Glen escalated to moaning the lyrics of Salt-N-Pepa's Grammy Award nominated _Push It,_ Liz had had enough. Trying to help, she yelled at him and Abraham. "Be quiet! She's on the phone!"

"- Let me call you back." Mr. Kaplan hung up the phone.

Liz had just been trying to help. She wasn't really clear on why Reddington was staring at her like _she_ had just done something wrong.

Mr. Kaplan gave Glen quite the displeased expression.

Grinning, Glen didn't seem phased at her glare.

When Mr. Kaplan turned off her phone's ringer and dropped it back into her bag before picking the bag up by the handles and standing, Glen seemed all the more pleased. "Oh come on! Don't leave on my account."

"I'm not leaving. I'm just going to step out for a moment."

"Was it something I said? Please tell me it was something I said." Glen chortled.

"If you're just stepping out for a moment ..." As she tried to pass, Reddington stopped her by touching her elbow. "... leave your bag so we trust that you're actually coming back."

Tearing her glare away from Glen to look at Reddington, Mr. Kaplan seemed to be considering it for a moment. She reached back into her bag before setting it back down.

Pressing his luck, Reddington offered. "I can play your seat while you step out."

Instead, still looking at Reddington, Mr. Kaplan countered. " _Elizabeth_... do you know how to play poker?"

With a grin, Liz answered. "I do."

Mr. Kaplan left and Liz settled into her seat while Reddington fumed.

As soon as she was out the door, Glen was eying Mr. Kaplan's bag. "I've always wondered what women keep in those things. Dump it out and let's have a look."

"Been there. Done that. Learned my lesson. _Not_ doing that again." Reddington told him.

Not trusting Glen to not still try to make a grab for it, Liz picked up Mr. Kaplan's bag and put it on her lap.

"You need to grow up." Liz chided Glen before turning to his fellow noise maker, Abraham. "You too."

Looking back at Reddington, she added. "And most _especially_ you."

"I didn't make a sound." Reddington protested. "Believe me, I know better than to play games with one of Mr. Kaplan's girlfriends."

Reddington went on to scold _her_. "Next time, do not – _do not_ – insert yourself into the situation like that."

"Insert myself into the situation? What are you talking about?" Liz asked.

"Mr. Kaplan likes what she likes. What she doesn't like, she doesn't like. Vanessa knows that. I don't see her feeling threatened by the manboys making noises in the background and even if she did -" Reddington shrugged. "- It's not going to be any great loss if Vanessa decides to rearrange their faces. Now your face on the other hand … Abraham might not have great fondness for your nose, but _I_ do."

Liz dismissed the idea. "Vanessa isn't going to come after me. You're being ridiculous."

"No. I'm not. I'm _really_ not." Reddington argued with her. "Not making eye contact with Shelby – that wasn't Kate being cute or shy or flirting. That was force of habit. The woman Mr. Kaplan was with when she first met Shelby was more than a little on the crazy jealous side."

When Liz rolled her eyes, Reddington didn't take it well. He insisted. "She once caved a waitress's skull in with a tire iron because she kept coming to the table to offer Mr. Kaplan more freshly grated cheese. She called me after to help her get rid of the body because she didn't want Kate to find out and think she didn't trust her."

Skeptical, Liz openly voiced her doubts. "She killed the waitress over freshly grated cheese?"

Reddington admitted. "I may have instigated the situation a tad. I knew she was the jealous type and overly dramatic. I was trying to start a tiff between her and Kate. Carla and I got to the restaurant first. While Carla went to go powder her nose, I told the waitress that Mr. Kaplan was the one that would be paying the check and she liked to be fawned over so if she wanted a big tip ..."

Reddington looked more guilty than Liz had ever seen him before. "... All throughout dinner I fed the flames. Going on about how attentive our waitress was towards Kate. Asking if that was because Kate came to the restaurant often. That sort of thing.

"When I got up to use the men's room, Mr. Kaplan followed me to tell me to knock it off. Unfortunately for our waitress, Kate's girlfriend tried to follow Kate to the ladies room. When she couldn't find her there, she didn't think to check the men's room. Instead, she got it in her head that Kate was off talking with the waitress."

"Because you put the idea in her head." Liz pointed out.

Reddington sounded sincerely regretful. "I was just hoping to start an argument. Maybe get her to make Kate sleep on the couch. I knew she was selfish and petty, but up until that point -"

Reddington turned to look at Brimley accusingly. "- no one had bothered to clue me in to the fact that she was also homicidal."

Brimley just shrugged. "Some things you can't be told. Some things, you have to figure out for yourself."

Reddington continued. "I didn't anticipate her going back to the restaurant the next day and luring the waitress into the parking lot to kill her."

Liz didn't know what to say.

"Now _..."_ Reddington finished. "... I know better than to play games with Mr. Kaplan's girlfriends."

"That's a terrible story, but I don't see how it relates to Mr. Kaplan's current girlfriend – or non girlfriend."

"You really want to test it to find out?" Reddington asked her.

Curious, Liz asked."So did you help her? To get rid of the body?"

Reddington sighed before admitting. "Only under extreme protest and duress."

"Hang on." Liz pointed out a problem. "If you helped her get rid of the body, how would Mr. Kaplan know to not make eye contact with Shelby?"

Reddington bit the inside of his mouth and didn't answer leaving Liz to put it together herself. "Unless … it wasn't the first time she had done it."

Brimley shook his head. "Every day with her was like an episode of _I Love Lucy_ only it wasn't bonbons that that redhead was trying to stuff in every conceivable hiding space for Kate not to find."

"Wait." Liz frowned. "Does Mr. Kaplan have a thing for redheads or were your cousin and Reddington's waitress killed by the same girlfriend?"

Certainly, the modus operandi was similar to that of the knockout Brimley had mentioned …

Ignoring her question, Reddington told Liz. "The point _is_ just don't ever do that again."

Mr. Kaplan's bag still on her lap, Liz could feel something inside it start to vibrate. Liz had seen Mr. Kaplan reach into the bag and palm something. Liz had assumed it was her phone to take with her to call back Vanessa.

Did Mr. Kaplan have more than one phone? That seemed odd, but since Mr. Kaplan was in charge of programming and passing out the cell phones for Reddington's organization it didn't strike her as _that_ odd.

Despite his short stack, Marvin had managed to hang in until the hand right before Mr. Kaplan left. Dembe had taken out both him and Abraham with the same straight making it Glen's turn to deal.

Finished shuffling, his lips twitched as he looked at her.

Liz got a bad feeling.

"Seven card stud. Follow the Queen. Royal deck. Suit ranking."

Trying not to panic, Liz picked up her cards. She frowned. She had two ten of spades. "I have two of the same cards."

Glen looked at her like she was an idiot. "Geez Louise! Yeah! In poker that's what we call a pair."

Liz tried to explain. "I have two ten of spades."

Marvin was a little gentler with her. "As your sometimes attorney, I'm going to have to advise you not to announce what you have."

Liz tried again. "There's something wrong with the deck of cards. I have two of the same exact card."

Dembe explained. "Royal deck means we are playing with parts of two decks. Follow the Queen means -"

"-Hey!" Glen took issue with his helping her. "Queensbury rules do not apply! No training wheels!"

Quickly realizing that she was in over her head, Liz looked to Reddington for help. He pulled his seat closer to look at her hand with her.

He moved some of her cards around for her, but Liz still couldn't make sense of what was going on by the time Baz pushed in his whole stack and the betting came around to her. She again looked to Reddington.

"Baz is bluffing. He has such an obvious tell. Look at him smirking. He has the worst poker face."

Liz looked, but she saw no change in his expression. "Are you sure?"

"He's all in. Knock him out." Reddington advised her.

On his advice, Liz went in heavy with Mr. Kaplan's money … and ended up doubling up Baz.

"That's okay." Raymond told her. "We can get it back before Mr. Kaplan comes back. We just need to play boldly."

"I don't know ..." Liz was skeptical. "Maybe I should put in just the minimums until Mr. Kaplan gets back. What are the chips worth? How much of Mr. Kaplan's money did I just lose?"

"Don't worry about the money. Mr. Kaplan has more money than I do. Mr. Kaplan has more money than God does. In fact, I have it on very good authority that Mr. Kaplan has some of his money."

Liz wasn't following what he was saying any better than she had the cards.

Marvin answered less cryptically, but only slightly so. "I would say you just lost her one of the two bedrooms, the dining room, the kitchen and a half bath."

Liz just looked at him until Marvin added. "We're playing for real estate. Mr. Kaplan put up a charming little townhouse she owns over on Grant St."

Mr. Kaplan hadn't had the largest pile of chips when she left the room, but she was comfortable and had still been in the running.

Liz said it again. "I don't know..."

But Reddington again assured her. "I told you, we can get it all back before she returns."

Liz wasn't convinced, but she didn't stop him a minute later as he pushed Mr. Kaplan's entire stack into the middle.

 _OOO_

As Mr. Kaplan returned, Reddington asked. "Everything okay with Vanessa."

"She wanted to know how to get a stain out of something. It didn't sound important. I'll call her back later."

"So you didn't call her back?" Reddington raised an eyebrow. He turned to Elizabeth. "I know enough not to play games with Mr. Kaplan's girlfriends, Mr. Kaplan on the other hand ..."

"She's not my girlfriend."

Glen did a very poor Inigo Montoya impression. "You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means."

"Wait." Liz was confused. "If you didn't just leave to call Vanessa back, why did you just leave?"

Mr. Kaplan dodged the question. "Are we chit chatting or are we playing poker?"

"Some people in the room are, but some of us aren't." Reddington cheerfully exclaimed. "You busted, Kate."

She looked at the empty space that used to have her chips and then to Liz. "I thought you said you knew how to play?"

"I've watched some Texas Hold Em tournaments on late night tv -"

The others groaned.

Baz spoke. "- That's not real poker."

"- and I played a bit in college. I'm pretty sure I just got trickrolled. I'm not sure that anything of what just happened was actually poker." Liz protested. "Aren't Queensbury rules for boxing?"

Raymond shrugged and told Mr. Kaplan. "Should have let me play your hands for you."

"You _did_ play her hands for her!" Liz protested as she handed back Mr. Kaplan's bag and got up from her seat.

Reddington changed the subject. "Why are you getting rid of the apartment on Grant St? It's so cute and centrally located."

"The FBI knows about it or at least they may soon."

"Oh? Do tell." Liz asked curious.

"Yes, do tell." Raymond agreed.

But Mr. Kaplan didn't.

Liz was happy to see Glen get pushed out on the very next round.

Heads up play between Dembe and Baz didn't last long.

"Time for the next buy in!" Reddington exclaimed rubbing his hands together with glee.

Dembe shot him down. "Raymond, you know the rules. You can only bet with what you have brought to the table. No IOUs."

Standing up, Reddington put his foot on his chair and lifted the hem of his trouser. He began trying to free the banded bundles of hundreds that he had duct taped to his leg.

Liz stated what she had long ago begun to suspect. "You knew exactly what Dembe and Mr. Kaplan were up to tonight the whole time."

"Of course I knew what they were up to. I just didn't know where." Reddington chastised them. "Next time, try not to be so obvious. At least change the day of the week."

"Do you have any idea how hard it is to plan around everybody's schedule?" Mr. Kaplan asked.

A bit oblivious, Reddington answered back as he continued trying to free his money. "No. I usually leave that to you."

Reaching into her pocket, Mr. Kaplan produced a Swiss Army knife and offered it to him.

"Thank you, Mr. Kaplan."

Mr. Kaplan watched and waited until at the loss of much hair and a bit of skin, he had his money on the table before telling him. "Raymond, money is no good here. We are playing for real estate."

Reddington's face fell in disappointment for the briefest of seconds before with a look of triumph, he turned to Marvin. "Well it just so happens that I just bought -"

Mr. Kaplan cut him off before he could get his hopes up. " _Residential_ real estate."

Leaving to go use the ladies room, Liz had to bit her lip to keep from laughing as his face fell again.

 _tbc_

A/N Reviews are greatly appreciated.


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